


In my heart of hearts

by Carlain



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Angst, Crushes, F/M, Partnership, Self-Doubt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-11
Updated: 2017-10-11
Packaged: 2019-01-16 01:39:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,696
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12332892
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Carlain/pseuds/Carlain
Summary: Being a superhero is not all fun and games. Sometimes you have to face the biggest enemy of all - your own fears and doubts.





	In my heart of hearts

Ladybug was perfect.

 

Everyone knew that. There was nothing she couldn’t do, no mountain she couldn’t move. When she glided through the air, bathed in the warm colors of the sunlight, suddenly everything became good - as if the hope flown down in invisible rays making everything just right again. The heroine was the epitome of perfection.

 

Except she was not.

 

Because Ladybug was Marinette and Marinette was everything Ladybug wasn’t.

 

When people thought of Paris’s famed defender they imagined an unbreakable figure, a hero without any flaw, without any scar or fear. (How wrong they were, just how wrong they were)

 

There was an evident strength bursting from Ladybug in waves and tides. Her presence burnt with the brightest aura, the golden halo that was a promise of safety and safeguard. No evil could stand a chance against her and her magic.

 

The confidence, which became associated with the heroine as the inseparable part of her image, was a reason why people decided to put their trust in Ladybug and trust their lives onto her protection. In the end, she possessed enough of self-assurance to inspire and lead citizens of Paris to the liberty and beyond.

 

Ladybug created history and would eventually become known as one of the greatest females in the mists of time of a human race.

 

So what was left for Marinette?

 

Who was Marinette Dupain-Cheng in comparison to someone as prominent as Ladybug?

 

Sometimes the teenager herself didn’t know the answer. Sometimes she got lost in the mess her double life created. Sometimes she just wasn’t sure who she was anymore.

 

Before she was gifted with the Ladybird Miraculous, Marinette had been certain about her own identity, her purpose and the course of her life. Sure, she used to be easily scared and smothered by forceful, confident people, but at least she had an uncomplicated life and a simple dream that waited to be accomplished.

 

Being trusted with the Power of Creation came with a heavy package of responsibilities and uncertainty. What if she wasn’t able to save everyone? What if Hawkmoth stole her Miraculous? What if someone discovered her identity? What if what if.....

 

Marinette was constantly under a massive amount of stress. At times she struggled to keep going. But she did nonetheless, because Paris counted on her, needed her.

 

Except, Parisians didn’t need her, they needed Ladybug.

 

The powerful superhero they came to idolize and worship - she was the one they wanted, not an evidently imperfect girl with two left hands.

 

Sometimes, when Marinette felt really down, persistent thoughts appeared in her head. They were teasing and laughing at her, getting under her skin and burning with acid until she cried and cried or fell apart.

 

“Did you see the last video of the akuma fight I had posted? Ladybug did some serious butt-kicking! There really isn’t anyone that could match her strength! She’s amazing!”

 

Every now and then, Alya’s excited chatter turned into a knife that cut deep inside the aspiring designer’s heart. There was no way her best friend could prefer Ladybug over Marinette, right?

 

Never had someone been envious of one’s alter ego before.

 

Honestly, Marinette didn’t understand herself. When people were praising the heroine it was also a compliment for her. Or at least it should be.

 

The teenager felt so detached from her alter ego that on occasions she doubted whether she really was the Ladybug. Maybe someone kept swapping the bodies with her when she underwent the transformation. Maybe it was Tikki who controlled her mind and saved all those people.

 

In the end, all she had ever accomplished as Ladybug was thanks to the kwami, although Tikki stubbornly denied it and credited everything to Marinette.

 

“All this power is inside you, Marinette. I am simply the catalyst that allows your strength to present itself.”

 

Sometimes she believed in the words of this wise being with big blue eyes full of gentleness and compassion.

 

Sometimes she discarded them and chose to think otherwise.

 

How someone as clumsy as her, someone who experienced Murphy’s law with unprecedented force could protect people from Hawkmoth?

 

How someone who couldn’t fight her own emotions could save others from their toxic feelings?

 

Marinette sighed. She hugged her knees and listened to raindrops splashing on the window’s pane. Nowadays, the rain seemed to make her depressed.

 

Had becoming Ladybug made her lose her optimism?

 

XXX

 

A pair of bright green eyes was staring at him from the biggest billboard in Paris. They spoke of calmness and meticulousness, of perfection. They belonged to the famous teenage model, an A-grade student, a perfect son.

 

And yet, those very same eyes could change in a matter of seconds to become wild and predatory. They twinkled with dangerous sparkle from behind the black mask and peered at the world with simple curiosity.

 

How could those eyes belong to him?

 

As a Cat Noir, he wasn’t afraid of anything. He could do whatever he wanted to do, go wherever he wanted to go. He was free. Free to run, to chase, to fall and to make mistakes.

 

Free to dream, to live.

 

So how could a caged bird like him become a cat with no holds barred?

 

When people thought of Cat Noir they imagined a free spirit, a maverick and flirtatious man that no chain could contain. (How wrong they were, just how wrong they were).

 

The Paris’s defendant left a certain impression on everyone he met. Maybe he wasn’t perceived as a reliable hero like Ladybug was, but he was seen as a mysterious yet kind figure that would fight for Paris and its citizens until his last breath.

 

People liked him and respected him but didn’t idolize him. He had been given a permission to be lost and look for answers. Cat Noir was a lucky guy, no matter how ironic that was.

 

Adrien was Cat Noir so he should be lucky as well, right?

 

Without a doubt, the day he had been entrusted with Power of Destruction had been the luckiest and happiest day in his entire teenaged life. He finally could get away from this suffocating house (golden cage, is it not), from the perfect future his father had prepared for him.

 

It wasn't until much later that Adrien realized being a Cat Miraculous Holder was just as much of a blessing as it was a curse.

 

Thanks to Plagg and his magic, the young model could discover the world, meet new people, fight and protect, not only be protected. He could finally be himself.

 

Except, who exactly was Adrien Agreste?

 

Was he a model perfect son, a teenage celebrity, a lost young boy, or a wild and carefree superhero?

 

Before becoming Paris’s defendant Adrien had been sure of his own identity. He had known the role he had to play, known how his life should look like. He had been also aware he had been suffering.

 

The Cat Miraculous freed him from the pain, from the prison he called his house, but it came with a price.

 

Sometimes he wasn’t sure anymore who was the real him. The golden boy or untamed superhero?

 

When Adrien looked in the mirror all he saw was a mask. A mask he unknowingly created through years of sorrow and suffocation. A fake, pampered figure who was unaware of how it felt to live. A carefully crafted doll, which purpose was to blind people with its glow.

 

Cat Noir wore a mask too. Somehow, it didn’t feel like a mask at all. Because finally, he didn’t have to pretend, didn't have to be careful about every word he spoke, didn’t have to be the epitome of perfection.

 

Adrien Agreste was perfect. He was Adrien Agreste so he should be perfect too, right?

 

Cat Noir was a free and unrestrained spirit. He was Cat Noir so he should be free too, right?

 

Just who he was? Who?

 

He could play the part of a perfect model, who everyone expected him to be. Who everyone loved, adored and preferred to see when they looked at him.

 

He could pretend to be the faultless, polished boy. He could pretend but couldn’t become him.

 

Sometimes he wanted to confess. To share his alter ego with Nino, with his father, even with Chloe. But he was scared. Not of the repercussions of letting out such a carefully guarded secret, but of what they would think of him.

 

If they knew he wasn’t such a great, flawless person, would they look at him differently? Would they stop caring about him? Would he be left alone with this overwhelming uncertainty and poisonous thoughts?

 

“You know, Kid. It’s okay to show your wilder side from time to time. It would add depth to your character. No one likes the perfect goody-two-shoes, believe me.”

 

Sometimes Plagg’s words made sense. Sometimes he was close to letting go of his fears and letting loose. It made him happy.

 

Sometimes he couldn’t believe in his kwami’s words even if he tried hard - the possibility of those important to him disliking him weighing in his heart.

 

What if his true-self was meant to be hated by everyone?

 

Adrien tore his gaze away from the shiny poster. He smiled at the photographer who had just walked in. He put on the mask, but he couldn’t wait until he could put on a different kind of mask.

 

XXX

 

As far as Marinette was concerned, Adrien was perfect.

 

Except he wasn’t and the teenager was aware of that despite her enormous, blinding crush on him. She knew no human being could ever reach a full potential of perfection, yet she decided to put him on the pedestal, to idolize him and in the process dehumanize him a little.

 

It was her decision to do so. Maybe not fully conscious one, but hers nonetheless.

 

Marinette needed someone close to perfection in her life. When she felt inadequate or helpless she knew Adrien was somewhere near, with his green round eyes, his calming smile and the vivid presence.

 

Maybe it was foolish of her to invest emotionally into someone as amazing and unreachable as Adrien. Maybe she was asking to have her heart broken.

 

A boy made of gold would never be interested in a girl as grey as herself.

 

Such assumption, however, was wrong and not backed by any evidence. In the end, Marinette didn’t know Adrien Agreste at all.

 

Sure, she had gathered as much information about him as she could - the internet being a huge help in the process - but observing him and knowing his daily schedule was not equivalent to knowing the model.

 

Marinette had created an image of her classmate in her mind, and _her_  Adrien was kind, smart, could do no wrong. He would never hurt anyone intentionally.

 

But was it really the truth? How could she be so sure of this when she barely talked to him? How?

 

It was his eyes. They spoke volumes about his soul and kind heart, but also about something hidden deep inside his core. Something wild and a little untamed but warm and good.

 

Sometimes he reminded her of someone, but she couldn’t put her finger on it.

 

Teenage magazines constantly compared Adrien Agreste to the modern prince. He was handsome, charming and lived in the grand mansion. How could any young girl pass him by indifferently?

 

Maybe it was partially why Marinette liked him so much.

 

She had a heart of a romantic, a dreamer. She used to love to listen to the fairytales about princesses and their princes. She used to fantasize about meeting one meant for her.

 

When she grew up, she no longer wanted a prince on a white horse who would save her from evil. She could save herself. She needed someone who would appreciate her and would stand beside her when the world was falling apart. She needed someone who would fight beside her, not for her.  

 

Despite that, the sentiment stayed, strongly rooted in her mind. Maybe that’s why she imagined Adrien as a prince who would give her his sword and a horse and let her combat alongside him. Such a beautiful vision.

 

Sometimes she wished her feelings were directed at some other boy. Someone less perfect but still warm-hearted. Someone like Cat Noir.

 

She liked that rambunctious cat. He could be hasty and rowdy at times but he was irreplaceable. She wouldn’t be able to play a role of a perfect Ladybug without him by her side.

 

He also didn’t seem to treat her like someone special. He saw her as any other person - he flirted with her and joked and teased - just like he acted with everyone. She was thankful for that.

 

(Maybe he could be her Prince Charming, maybe he could)

 

Unfortunately, her heart already belonged to Adrien. Forever.

 

Even if the boy was unaware of it. Hopefully not forever.

 

XXX

 

Ladybug was not perfect.

 

Adrien knew better than that. No one could be perfect, not even the most powerful being on Earth.

 

In spite of his judgment, the model chose to idolize her, to make her perfect in his eyes. (He stubbornly shushed the voice that screamed of unfairness of his assessment)

 

Somehow, the fact that he was doing exactly the same thing he hated other to do to him, escaped his attention.

 

Ladybug was the superheroine, the true inspiration to Parisians and the world. She deserved to be idolized and praised to heavens.

 

Except, Cat Noir had witnessed the heroine’s weak side. He had seen her stumble, and misjudge, and act unreasonably.

 

So no, Ladybug was far from perfect. In the end, she was just a girl gifted with a miraculous power. Nothing more nothing less.

 

Yet, when he looked at her, when he saw her smile, saw her fight and talk he couldn’t believe she was a mere human. How could someone so perfect only be a teenager like him?

 

Impossible.

 

Whenever he saw a chance, an opening, Adrien tried to make his feeling visible. He flirted with the object of his affection, he praised her and complimented her, he jumped blindly in the face of danger to help her.

 

However, no matter what he did, Ladybug seemed oblivious to his emotions. Maybe she didn’t like his raw expressions, his honest behavior, his cheerfulness. Maybe she didn't like him at all.

 

Maybe someone as perfect as her would prefer a better suitor. Maybe she would prefer Adrien Agreste. Just like every other person.

 

It pained him to love her. He would be better of giving his affection to someone else. Someone less perfect but still warm-hearted. Someone like Marinette Dupain-Cheng.

 

He liked his classmate very much. She was strong-willed and kind. She wasn’t afraid to stand up to people who were obviously hurting others. He kind of looked up to her.

 

Yes, she wasn’t blessed with magical powers like Ladybug but she fought to make the world better just like the superheroine did. She stood out in spite of not being as gorgeous as Chloe or as confident as Alya. Marinette shone brightly with many colors, her presence distinctive in the crowd.

 

She could always find something good and positive in a person, even when that someone was unaware of their qualities.

 

She probably would accept him just the way he was. In the end, she liked Cat Noir with his over-the-top attitude. He was thankful for that.

 

(Maybe she would love his imperfect self, maybe she would)

 

Unfortunately, his heart already belonged to Ladybug. Forever.

 

Even if the superheroine was unaware of it. Hopefully not forever.

 

XXX

 

In the midst of a battlefield stood both Paris’s defendants. Tall and proud and impressive. They had each other’s back and supported their partner during a fight. They shared a simple companionship.

 

Ladybug smiled. She was happy.

 

“What?” Cat Noir asked, his trademarked crooked smile already on his face “So excited to kick some akuma butt?”

 

She shook her head. “Let’s go Kitty!” she patted him on the back, rushing into action.

 

Whatever it was between them it was calming. Simple companionship wasn’t all they wanted nor what they needed.

 

Sometimes, however, sometimes it was enough.

**Author's Note:**

> That was surprisingly cleansing.  
> Also, I was quite shocked when I was reminded that Ladybug in British English is actually called Ladybird.  
> Thanks for stopping by, hope you've enjoyed this short story. Have a great day!


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